


i am meant to be wherever you are next to me

by iphigenias



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Reunion, Season 7 Spoilers, gay disaster takashi shirogayne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 06:52:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15383106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iphigenias/pseuds/iphigenias
Summary: If pressed, Shiro would say he misses a lot of things about Earth, but he misses Adam most of all.





	i am meant to be wherever you are next to me

**Author's Note:**

> we been knew shiro is gay but it's nice to see it actually honest to god confirmed!!! gays stay winning
> 
> this was written in about an hour and proofread only very briefly. i also haven't seen s6 because reasons but i'm ready to rewatch the whole series with my shiro is canon gay tinted glasses, so apologies for any discrepancies
> 
> title is from 'running home to you' yes it's the song grant gustin sings on the flash, i have quite a few regrets in my life
> 
> happy lgbt wrath month!

If pressed, Shiro would say he misses a lot of things about Earth, but three memories most of all:

His mother’s cooking. The way it would fill the kitchen and their house up with a buttery, spicy warmth that lingered for hours after. The way that when Takashi was little, he would stand by the stove on his tip toes as his mother stirred their dinner, mesmerised at the patterns her wooden spoon made in the oils swirling inside the pan. The way they would sit together, cross-legged on the floor in front of the TV, and eat until their bellies were filled to bursting. The way she would laugh at the mess around his mouth, and kiss the sticky pads of his fingers one by one. 

The sun. There is light in space, that much is true. And for a moment, for just a moment, Shiro can fool himself into thinking he’s back at home, eyes closed against the brightness of the sky, soaking up the heat like a lizard on a rock. But it’s never quite the same. The sun back home is warm, and welcoming. The light in space is warm, but distant, and cold at the same time. He misses the way the sun on Earth beat down on the desert surrounding the Garrison; the way it warmed the concrete roof until the surface was almost too hot to stand, until it burned to the touch—burned like the kisses Shiro would steal on that roof between classes, sweaty palms clasped nervously together as they risked being caught but lingered there kissing anyway. 

And Shiro misses Adam, most of all. The memory of their last time together is still fresh, raw like a newly-healed wound. The feeling of being with him still bleeds whenever Shiro presses at it—but he’s always been a masochist at heart. Sometimes, at night, when the stars are too bright to let him sleep, he catalogues the things about Adam he loves and misses the most. His smile. His eyes. His kindness, his strength. The way he scrunches his nose when he pushes up his glasses. The stray curl of hair that twists the wrong way beside his ear. The smooth golden skin of his forearm, blue veins forking in a V against his wrist. The crease between his eyebrows when he concentrates. The freckle on his hipbone. The way his hands feel hot like cattle brands against Shiro’s own hips. The burn of his mouth and the softness, too, that comes after. The sensitive patch of skin behind his knees. The jut of his collarbone. The way his Adam’s apple moves when Shiro kisses his jaw, his shoulder, lower. The way their hands fit together like magnets to metal, an irresistible pull Shiro couldn’t resist if he tried. The list is long, and Shiro always manages to fall asleep before reaching the end—if there is an end. He’s not so sure. Adam always has lived outside of reason.

Shiro knows it’s been too long to even hope that Adam waited for him. They weren’t even together by the end, and Adam’s words—justified, deserved, despite the pain it caused to hear them—are as fresh in Shiro’s mind as if their fight was yesterday, and not years and planets and whole solar systems ago. But as the paladins steer their lions on a course for Earth, Shiro wonders if it’s not too much to ask if Adam misses him. If he still thinks about him, the way Shiro thinks about Adam as often as breathing. And Shiro knows he’s changed. His illness, his arm, even his old body, are gone forever. There are more scars on his skin than Shiro cares to count, and his hair, a shock of white, a reminder of everything that’s happened to him since he was on Earth, makes him feel old and tired in a way that rattles him to his core. He wonders if Adam will even recognise him when he sees him—if he’ll even bother showing up at the Garrison when they land. The possibility that he won’t makes his new heart squeeze inside his chest, and he pushes the thought far away. 

The journey to Earth is longer without the Castle of Lions and its wormholes, but it’s still shorter than Shiro was ready for. He radios in to the Garrison, announcing their arrival to the shocked rookie officer on the line, and reminds himself how to breathe.

“You good?” Keith asks, breaking the silence they’d been flying in. He fixes Shiro with a stare that says he knows exactly what’s going on in his brother’s head. Shiro huffs out a nervous laugh and pulls the tangled threads of his mind together. 

“I will be,” he replies, because for better or worse, it’s the truth. Keith nods and turns his attention back to piloting Black.

There’s a crowd gathered on the Garrison roof and out the front of the complex when the paladins land their lions. Shiro can hear Lance’s excited commentary over the comms; it seems like he’s spotted his family amidst the throng. Shiro and Keith disembark Black together, Keith almost folded up against Shiro’s side though their height difference barely exists anymore. “Hey,” Shiro says, nudging him. “It’ll be fine.” 

Keith lets out an annoyed huff. “I was expelled from this place, Shiro. I don’t think they’ll be too happy to see me. And wasn’t I meant to be the one comforting _you_?”

Shiro laughs. The sun is warm on his face and its happiness is infectious. “You might be surprised,” is all he says. When they reach the crowd, Lance bounds forward towards a small group of people who can only be his family; Pidge and Matt take off running toward their parents, who both look like they’re crying; and Hunk is folded into the arms of a wizened old woman half his size. Shiro spots Iverson, and is about to make his way over when a figure pushes through the crowd to his left and steps into the sunlight. 

Shiro loses his breath completely, because it’s Adam.

If Shiro had the time or the brain capacity, he would catalogue all the differences between this Adam and the Adam of his memories. As it is, he can barely think past the white noise buzzing in his head, and his vision tunnels down until Keith, the paladins, the crowd are all gone, and only Adam stands before him. 

“Takashi?” he says, voice barely above a whisper, but Shiro hears it. No-one’s called him that since before Kerberos. No-one calls him that but Adam. And suddenly it’s as if the years melt away between them—Shiro isn’t the former paladin of the Black Lion, broken and remade and made anew by the Galra, and Adam isn’t the man who lost a boyfriend, who lost a fiancée, for years neither of them care to count. Adam is just Adam, and Shiro is just Shiro, and he can’t believe he ever thought this would be difficult, when loving Adam is the easiest thing he’s ever done. 

The distance folds between them like a wormhole and it doesn’t matter who moved first or how far, only that like magnets to metal they come together, Shiro’s face pressed into the crook of Adam’s neck, Adam’s arms wrapped around Shiro so tightly it’s hard to breathe. “I’m sorry,” Shiro says into Adam’s jacket, the words a half-sob. “I’m sorry, I was stupid, I missed you, I love you.”

Adam’s grip tightens. “I’m sorry too,” he says, fingers digging into Shiro’s back. “And I missed you too, and I love you. _I love you._ ” He pulls back and Shiro stares at him, drinking in the warm brown eyes that he fell in love with for the first time so many years ago, and continued to fall in love with day after day, year after year, even in space, even in death, and now again, back home, at last. 

There are apologies to be said, and explanations to be given. Not just to Adam, but to the world. And Shiro knows the crowd is watching them, knows he needs to meet with Iverson and discuss the incoming invasion, knows he should be doing a million other things right now—but none of that seems to matter, in this pocket of space and time they’ve carved out for themselves, and all Shiro wants to do is hold Adam, and kiss Adam, and love Adam, and never let go again. 

“I love you,” he says again, just to see Adam smile. He’s still smiling when they kiss, and so is Shiro, and it’s less of a kiss than just two smiles pressed together, but it’s better than any memory, any old feeling, any longing in the middle of the night in space. They kiss, and it feels like the sun: warm, and welcoming, and forever. 

And forever.


End file.
